


A Timely Question

by Melanie_Athene



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-11
Updated: 2011-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-25 23:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melanie_Athene/pseuds/Melanie_Athene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodie has a question that must be answered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Timely Question

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Teaandswissroll's weekly Obbo Challenge #19 (Oct. 2009). The prompt was "question"

Normally, it was a fifteen minute drive to Doyle's flat. On good days, Bodie could do it in ten. But, tonight... Ah, tonight it took several belts of scotch and two solid hours for him to make his cautious approach. He wasted a further twenty minutes, shoulders hunched, head propped against the door, pondering on the wisdom of setting finger to bell. The hour was late. Surely, Doyle had retired by now? At the very least, he'd have more than a few caustic remarks about this untimely visit.

But Bodie had waited five long years for an answer to his question. A question he couldn't get out of his mind, no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps, tonight, he'd find that elusive answer. And so he straightened up as best he could, dusted off his jacket, and gave the bell the ringing of its life.

Muffled curses and pounding footsteps announced his partner's imminent arrival. The door crashed open and there stood Doyle: tousled hair falling into narrowed eyes; bare toes curling in protest at the draught wafting its way across the sill.

“Well?” Doyle demanded, twitching his gaping robe closed, but not before Bodie glimpsed a rosy, hardened nipple nestled in a cloud of auburn curls.

“Bloody hell,” Bodie breathed.

Doyle's ratty scowl deepened.

“I've been asking myself the wrong question!” Bodie smiled, obviously pleased with this epiphany.

“What are you nattering on about? Do you have the foggiest notion of the time?” Doyle sighed, but motioned for Bodie to step inside. “Come on, then, you're letting out all the heat. Have a coffee and sober up a bit -- or shall I just tuck you in on the sofa?”

“The question is not: _Do I love you?_ ” Bodie beamed. “It's: _Do you love me?_ ”

Doyle's kiss was his reply.


End file.
